Infinity
by Wicked R
Summary: Anybody else thought Samuel Sullivan was defeated way too easy after all? Middle of "Brave New World", goes AU from there. Sylaire.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Infinity

Disclaimers: I don't own any supernatural powers or anything else to do with Heroes. If I had, the series would continue, no matter what.  
Genre: angst, supernatural, eventual romance.

Rating: PG-12. Rating may go up later.  
Summary/Set: Anybody else thought Samuel Sullivan was defeated way too easy after all? Middle of "Brave New World", goes AU from there. Hiro doesn't know where Charlie went.

Pairing: I'm writing it, so it's Sylaire. Pemma, Noren, Hirlie and regular canon for the rest.

In his blinding anger over his plans being thwarted at the last minute that drove his latest aspiration to destroy everything in sight as a result, Samuel Sullivan did not notice his attacker in time, but once back on his feet, he directed his wrath on the insolent Peter Petrelli by opening the ground in front of him to bury the younger man alive.

It did not worry him much that the ground started to open in his direction too, commanded by the Petrelli, who had obviously switched his previous ability of flight to Samuel's powers of enhanced terrakinesis. No matter the empath copied his ability, the carnival leader was sure his challenger had no way of coming close to equal his strength. It was one thing mastering every ability right away the paramedic stole, but the good natured man had no idea how to use anger to his advantage when focusing powers, a major building pillar in the intensity of how the younger Sullivan brother's powers manifested.

Samuel's whole complexion was glowing green and bright, not with the purpose of emanating the light source, but so he could fuel himself from his own aura. It was a dust storm he created first, not so much for destruction purposes, but to conceal himself from attacks. The ground shook as if there had been a quake, deep trenches opened up to channel his command of the earth further away from the carnival, fighting for space with New York's well extended subway system all the way to Queens, Brooklyn, Bronx and branch holes right into the ocean.

The Sullivan Brothers' leader did not initially intend to cause such destruction. He was meaning to show the world his potential, yes, and of course some amount of death and damage was necessary for humankind to understand that messing with his aspirations for leadership was dangerous, but he had to keep himself in control for the sake of his so called family, the people he gathered most of his strength from. He was not to frighten them away. Tables were turned however, by no fault of his own and he had no reason to contain his rage at this time, nor the scale of the destruction. It was now or never, while his superhumans were close by. No building will be left standing in a ten mile radius, no, a hundred miles, no, he could maybe finish the whole continent, no one deserved to live anyway for the whole nation devaluing him, Vanessa Wheeler included. He had never used his powers along these proportions, but he felt like he wanted to try, test their full potential once, feel free and liberated, no matter the consequences. He had been contained and restricted all his life, way too long.

Peter's eyebrows creased in his confusion. He willed the dust cloud to move out his way to be able to see, he felt the ground move, shake, open and liquefy around him, his senses overpowered by screams, rumbling and screeching. The mimic could not make out the whereabouts of his opponent and concentrated on restricting the damage instead. He levelled the ground, filled the holes and imposed stillness into the surface, missing the fact that Samuel's main target was way beyond Central Park, where the carnie was currently situated.

Inside a tent, Sylar was admiring his own arty creation of a light decorated hanging Doyle a little longer than necessary, paying no heed to the quivering ground. His inexperienced rescuer instincts took a while to register that his to be protected Emma has disappeared from next to him. As he stepped out into the destruction disoriented, the scene appeared familiar, it was that of a man turned mad by the need to prove himself.

The chaos was gigantic and Sylar did not require any convincing to determine that Peter could have needed help in bringing the head of the carnival under control. His senses and intuition now honed in on the prey, the murderer quickly determined where the greatest concentration of terrakinetic, a form of telekinetic energy originated from. Sylar paused momentarily: while Samuel could only command certain geological materials, the dense concentration of energy baffled Sylar. The dark anti hero could not remember facing such a cluster before, if we did not count pre Pinehearst Peter that is.

Judging by the surge of energy flowing out in all directions that his ability mapping mind detected and the personal experience of the having had delusions associated with excess of power, this was supposed to be Samuel's big moment, with good or bad results, the terrakinetic did not care himself at this time.

Undoing everything that transpired one by one telekinetically did not seem like an option to Sylar, he was way too late for that. But he could possibly stop Samuel from bringing his plans to completion by cocooning him, restricting him from effecting anything outside the an invisible force bubble his kinesis could bring up around them.

Samuel immediately felt as if something was interfering, his powers did not reach as many miles as they have previously. He judged it unlikely that his family of evolved humans would've managed far under the circumstances of the earth shattering under them, so he glanced out towards the paramedic to see him running towards the remains of one of the tents, the one he had placed Emma in beforehand. He sniffed dismissively, just to realize that Peter was not after his sweetheart, but was trying to reach Sylar among the commotion, having realized that possessing the killer's most compelling ability was more useful against the carnival fraud than the one he had just taken from him.

The determined Sullivan did not like Peter's idea. He concentrated to penetrate the force shield made of small, invisible particles around him at one point only and hurtled numerous stones and rocks into his two main contenders' direction.

Busy with maintaining the force field, Sylar deflected some stones, but not all. Little pebbles lodged into his shoulders, arms, sides and thighs. He took a deeper breath, did not flinch though, regeneration was dealt with another part of his brain automatically. Peter however, fell to his knees, the burning in his back and his dizzied breathlessness assuring him that his wounds were extensive and not to be laughed at. He squatted, not by choice, but inevitability.

Similarly, his decision was driven by necessity as well. His hands angled for Sylar's legs in the dust and smoke, his mimicry choosing rapid cellular regeneration first before he passed out. It would maybe even be minutes later before he would be able to move on to telekinesis next, he established as his last thought prior to the darkness he had to let take hold of him.

That he was on his own for the time being, did not bother Sylar too much, he was used to it from the past. Having his powers back in the real world at the same time as his memories, gave him enormous confidence. Boulders bounced back and forward between him and Sullivan, while the older superhuman tried to bury him into the ground through the force field that Sylar focussed most his concentration on. Losing he would not contemplate and that was why he did not give much importance to the fact that stones hit him more and more often, that dirt seeped up around his legs and made him stuck and that the blood that blinded his eyes did not cease to obstruct his vision. He could find his way around, it was only his powers he needed working, not his eyes.

What he eventually had to notice though was that his supposed to be restricting force field got larger, what's more, there were several holes in it. A fist sized, dark coloured rock sizzled out from right the middle and hit Sylar in the chest, making him lose both his balance and his aim for the first time. More projectiles followed that he could not ward off and grunting, he ended up on one knee right beside his earlier companion inside the walls.

Samuel radiated so much energy still, his entire being seemed encased in it. He stood unrelenting, with a self-righteous expression on his lips. At this moment in time he was king, he felt all-powerful, essential, appreciated and worthy, just like he could've been his entire life if not for his brother. Sylar did not know how many more specials the carnie leader managed to convince to join his circus since his last being around, but absorbing so much power and using all at the same time could only burn the terrakinetic out. If the fuse gave way inside him, there could be an earth shattering explosion, almost as destructive as Samuel himself.

A fleeting, hurried charge went off from Sylar's hand. It was Peter, grabbing for him, filling himself with the right power against their common enemy this time. It was the paramedic who helped him to his feet again, understanding at once that Sylar had to overuse his powers against the carnival leader to the extent Peter himself did when having healing powers and trying to restore everybody's health he encountered. Spending an essential few moments analysing the best course of action, he shared a look with Sylar, both gathering strength from their shared determination for a common goal.

Samuel gritted his teeth, angrier than he has ever been when Peter ran to the other side of him, mimicking his friend's telekinetic actions. The older man remained focussed of Sylar though, he knew he could beat him, in fact felt enormous determination to do so. He knew he would feel better for pulling that off, regardless of all else. His rock shower continued towards the wanting to reform serial killer, with the occasional diverting manoeuvre applied on his other attacker, while the rest of the world could do not much more than play hide and avoid stone storms and shifting earth. Noah, Claire and Lauren had attempted to draw near, but found themselves hitting into an invisible barrier.

Inside the force field that kept the three fighters separate from interference, Samuel was blinded. His judgment thwarted by paranoia, hatred and his momentary overestimation of his own capabilities, he did not care of consequences. Clusters of soil moved around him like planets circling the sun, grains of sand, dirt forming a cloud that made seeing difficult, the earth roared under him, threatening to erupt and bury everything about. And when it finally did as Samuel commanded it to, Sylar and Peter raised their palms simultaneously in defence, willing the soil back and away from them, covering up the one who had moved it in the first place.

There was a new earth pillar raised in the heart of Central Park, tall and gloomy, and with a deep foundation. Samuel was buried under it, the weight crashing his bones instantly. Dust started to clear, allowing for people to try to find their bearings and the evolved humans to establish the reason behind the quake diminishing and disappearing.

Peter coughed and made his way across the settling cloud. The still airborne particles made his eyes sting as much that it took him a couple of minutes till he could take in the scene before him and understand what the gun fire was about.

Noah and Lauren Gilmore stood straight in front of Sylar, their respective tasers and guns trained on their old prey, aided by dozens of supposedly company agents who must've been called in, doing the same in a circle around Sylar.

"Stop!" The shots that there were fired Peter could do nothing against. If Sylar's placid acceptance of all projectiles towards him without raising a finger did not convince them, what he could do was to throw himself in front of his friend, hoping that would cause the army of agents to seize fire.

Tbc


	2. Confidential

Chapter 2: Confidential

"Stop!" Noah echoed. Even with Claire close and Peter able to absorb her ability, the former company man could not risk the Petrelli's life. And while all weapons remained trained on Sylar, Lauren's verbal approval of the "seize fire" she also recounted out loud, convinced the agents to refrain from shooting for the time being.

Sylar staggered forward, wheezing, bullets and tranquillizers aggravating his exhaustion. The movement would've naturally triggered further action from the elite team of huntsmen, but the killer sagged right into Peter's arms. The paramedic eased Sylar to the ground as his head rolled back, all the while covering targeted man's body as closely as possible with his own.

Peter has used his kinesis directly against Samuel's grandiose scheme for a grand total of two minutes the most and he was feeling like he had been running half a marathon at least. Fatigue washing over him, he paused a few seconds in front of the still overanxious gathering of people. Then again, it was rather uncomfortable lazing there in the puddle of Sylar's blood under him.

He noted to himself that the black coat his companion wore inside the walls for five years and managed to keep in a reasonable condition, was now unusable for the amount of holes, dirt and gashes on it. Blood soaked through, staining Peter's overused clothes to an extent they became unsavable too.

Minding the agents' itchy fingers, Lauren stepped closer and into the Petrelli's vision to lean down towards him and inquire about the mystery of him protecting his otherwise arch enemy. She raised both hands to hopefully prevent everything from moving when she saw something else move as Emma ran towards the gathering alarmed, seeing her rescuer's lifeless body on the ground.

Peter grabbed for her hand to make her look at him, "it's ok. He's special like us. He will regenerate. He just needs some time," he looked the fallen man over, "and…probably a paramedic bag if possible?" He looked up at Lauren, who shrugged bewildered, but gave the sign to the men ordered there by her to grant the request.

Noah wasn't so generous. Rather annoyed that he wasn't the one in charge, he gruffly grabbed Peter off Sylar. Emma's gentle hands cared for her liberator now as she unbelievingly assessed his injuries after finding a weak, but impossible pulse.

"What do you think you're doing?" Noah asked him irately, but not without any incredulity himself.

"I'm not going to stand here and let you waste the result of five years I spent locked up together with Sylar. Besides, does it count for nothing he had just saved possibly millions of people's lives?"

Noah paused and started at him for a moment in a manner that let the other man know the ex agent thought he was mad and Peter could not blame him for it. Surely it sounded nuts before he could explain it.

"Either that, or Sylar did not like Samuel's contention for world domination," Noah gave another explanation for the killer's seemingly altruistic actions.

"All I'm asking is for you to call Parkman and listen to his account," Peter pleaded. Perhaps it was the quickest way to resolve the situation.

"What's going on here??" Claire's penetrating voice interrupted. She had made sure the carnival people were safe and was now trying to catch up with what else has went down.

"That's what I'm trying to find out," Noah said sternly and finally dialling a number on his cell at Lauren's pointed, urging raise of her eyebrows.

Claire remained a few feet away, blinking at the bloody mess of a man on the ground. A blond woman had removed the shreds of clothing that were still attached to his torso and she could clearly see the oozing wounds on his side, stomach and chest. She pursed her lips a bit bewildered, but mostly captivated. Is that what happens when you got enough tranquillizers in you to stop you from regenerating properly? She had to laugh though when she saw how the woman by him attempted to handle him, searching for vitals, holding down to stop the blood flow, desperately trying to get Peter's attention.

The college student was more befuddled however, when he reached out for a medical bag handed to him by one of the men in tactical jackets and passed the woman an intravenous pack and some dressings from it. And it was not the oddness of Sylar needing such treatment that puzzled her the most, but the care that her uncle took tending to the fallen anti-hero's wounds.

Lauren, who was still closest to the action, addressed Peter on a probing, yet uncritical tone, voicing all of their' obvious question, "what's the need for any of that?"

"The more blood he looses, the harder and longer it will take him to regenerate," Peter answered, not looking up from filling a syringe with some drug Emma had pointed at previously.

"Perhaps," Lauren gave taken aback, "but it would be a matter of minutes the most for him, here or there."

"I don't know," Peter admitted, then gave a glance at the woman trying to question him, "I just don't like to see him suffer, all right?" He retorted.

"Why?" Claire asked baffled.

"It's a long story," Peter shrugged, looking up at Noah for possible confirmation, given that the older ex agent had finished his phone conversation with Matt by now.

"If what you two claim, is true," Noah started, "I'm sure Sylar would not mind being taken to a company cell till his story checks out," he established.

Lauren cleared her throat, "that would certainly be the preferred course of action, Noah, but these are old company agents as you know, or have you forgotten? Neither of us have the power to call the company in, unless you want to get Angela involved."

Her boyfriend looked around himself as if he was looking around for a solution, but eventually he had to frown, "you can get your men to aid us for a while longer, right? We need to get Sylar out of sight before the emergency workers arrive," he started shouting over the sound of sirens, "one of the tents or trailers must be intact?"

"The medical tent is one of them I think," Emma made her suggestion.

Noah nodded and aided the group of Lauren's agents lifting Sylar up. "Do as you wish, but I'm not letting him out of sight. With as many people available just now, we can keep him almost under as much surveillance as we would've had the possibility at the company's facility."

Tbc


	3. Verdict

Chapter 3: Verdict

Given that she slept in a wrecked trailer with the Davis carnie family she hardly knew, after the eventful day of going up against Samuel, watching her father almost die helplessly and reencountering her boogey man, Claire found it rather surprising that she did not wake till eight o'clock and did not jump up right away even after that, but spent some time stretching lazily before she remembered and realized that the situation was a little more stressful than to allow for careless relaxing.

Thankfully though, a smiling Lauren greeted her outside, while Hiro wandered up to her an announced, "your father only came out for coffee this morning. Still in there with Peter and Sylar."

"Curious," Claire commented, gratefully taking the seat by the carnie family table for breakfast that her host for the night, Danielle Davis, the woman who could understand animals, offered her. Claire hurried with her morning meal, she wanted to talk to her dad as soon as possible and see with her own eyes that he was safe from Sylar, even with the serial killer that close. Therefore, she only vaguely listened to the conversation around the table, mainly consisting of everybody's views on what and how they could go forward. As it seemed nobody really thought an out and out leader was necessary for going on and people kinda agreed that whatever headship was indispensable, Edgar and Chris Bowman could deal with that together or in turn.

Claire grabbed another, bigger plate after finishing hers and piled a couple of croissants, bits of cheese, salad and boiled eggs onto it. After all the destruction from last night, it was perhaps remarkable that there was even as much choice at the breakfast table, but given the people with special abilities like Edgar and his speediness or Ian Michael, who could grow vegetables in a matter of seconds, they could deal with it.

The petite blond stood up and balancing the platter, she walked over to the trailer her dad, her uncle and Sylar had spent the night in after the paramedic declared they all needed a good sleep. She was wanting to offer her two family members in there the chance to have something to eat and it was only half an excuse to check upon the serial killer and his now supposedly not dangerous state. They all heard the story of the years Peter spent with him inside the walls last night and the carnival people and Peter's new girlfriend had nothing bad to say about Sylar whatsoever, but she would not fall for it and was quite sure her dad wouldn't either.

Just as she had expected, Noah Bennet was sitting by a small folding table, nursing the meagre remains of his daybreak coffee, obviously not having rested, as opposed to how it was suggested by Peter.

"Sorry, dad, I should've thought of more coffee," Claire started to whisper, seeing that Peter was indeed asleep on one of the camp beds close together in the middle of the trailer. Huddled up by the wall, but securely locked in the paramedic's arms was the thin blond she had encountered the day before. She should've brought more food.

Claire let her dad take one of the croissants and stepped forward into the small gap between the two camp beds to set her platter down onto the counter, where the pair could find it when they woke up. On the way, she could not pass up a glance at the other bed's occupant, the similarly sound asleep killer and found herself carelessly trampling over a bundle of gauze saturated with dried blood. The whole idea of a reformed, what's more, vulnerable Sylar was out of this world after all.

She sat down next to her father, still fascinated by the sight of such exposed prey. She could kill him in an instant. Why her father didn't do it already, it evaded her. They watched his chest going up and down rhythmically instead, locked in some sort of disbelief that merely scratched the surface of their hardened opinions of the killer's chance for redemption.

Sylar had been given clean clothes that presumably belonged to somebody from the carnival. Claire was fairly sure he would've never chosen such light colours himself, but maybe there wasn't a choice. Either that, or he was still out cold when they brought him in. From where she was, she had an unambiguous view of him, clearly that was why her father must've chosen the spot. Sylar's shirt unbuttoned, she could see some bluish, reddish marks on his skin, so she squinted, paying special attention. As if he wasn't a hundred percent healed yet.

"Lauren had some more tranquillizer shots left," seeing her expression and the direction she was looking into, Noah started explaining matter of factly, as if it would've been the most natural and logical thing to do, "so I topped him up with them after those two went to sleep," he whispered.

"What do you think?" Claire asked him of his opinion about the latest turn of events.

"Sylar went through many transformations. Every once in a while, he is this different persona, or so he thinks or claims. So many reinventions I'm entirely certain he doesn't even know who he is. And then Angela has this grand idea where she thinks she can suppress the killer, and not for the first time I might add. I don't think it helps much."

Claire studied him, not missing the cloud that passed over his otherwise surefire face. "But?"

Noah only half shrugged, not used to admitting to any chink in his armour, or thought process all that much. But in the interest of his supposedly new and redefined, more honest relationship with his daughter he had to give in and admit to some things and it was easier if it did not concern the most important stuff. "The way he stood there. Nonviolent, unquestioning and anxious, like a dear caught in the headlights. I did not understand why he did not attack us till it occurred to me that I did not recognize Sylar, it was more like how I first saw him before he used his ability in any sinister way, at least as much as we are aware."

"You knew him before he killed anyone?" Claire asked incredulously, so much she raised her voice a little and the conversation topic himself shifted at her voice and his eyelids fluttered a little. She wasn't sure if she woke Sylar up, but a strange thought occurred in her head. She should've brought four croissants.

Tbc


	4. Initiation

Chapter 4: Initiation

When Peter and Sylar came out to partake of dinner later that day, a sound round of applause went off from the carnival people. Claire joined in smiling, although she was quite sure she was not clapping for anybody else than her uncle.

The two men both took the sounds and signs of appreciation shyly and Claire was certain they would've taken off if certain people like Hiro and Noah would've not required of them to stay out in the open to be scrutinized. Quite a few of Lauren's fellow agents was still around too, discreetly standing by the trailers, helping with the repairs, or playing cards inside.

Her bogeyman appeared shaky and uncertain among the people, both looks of his new to Claire, and odd. Given his unsteadiness, it was perhaps not too surprising that his previous protector, Peter walked close to him, keeping a hand either on Sylar's arm, shoulder or back as the two made their way to the evening gathering of the carnival people, a pastime they were intent on keeping going, along with calling themselves a big family. Claire did not take her eyes off the two men, the whole phenomenon of their alleged friendship had her spellbound.

Sylar felt a lot better than he looked. Although his preternatural strength was merely seeping back into him bit by bit, hope was filling him up with a type of power he never knew before. He was out of the nightmare of his own mind and on the way to redemption in a manner that already dozens of people believed in him. Even though not the way he meant it, Samuel was right. He belonged with these people, this was his home where he could start his new life. If only Claire didn't keep looking at him that pryingly and suspiciously.. He reciprocated the smile Jennie Bowman gave him and rounded a chair to sit down by the table next to Peter while touching the high back of the chair..

Peter reached out for him as he doubled over, his hand convulsively holding onto the wood he accidentally touched a moment ago. Several other arms followed and they eventually managed to pry his fingers off the object in question and lay him onto the ground gingerly. His mind cleared quickly after that, and he grabbed Peter's hand to pull himself up into a sitting position again.

"No, stay down, Sylar," Peter opposed, "you're very pale, you worried me there."

His friend waved him off, "clairvoyance," he explained and sat up by himself, "that chair belonged to a man called Arnold. He did time manipulation and well, a lot of decades fit into that short few seconds I touched the chair," he rubbed his forehead, then gave a laborious sigh, "where is Hiro?"

The Japanese man in question was standing right in front of him and given that he had been hanging about in the back earlier, Claire had to wonder if he had actually teleported himself into the middle of the action. Certain was that Hiro was very keen to talk to the killer for some reason. "What have you seen, brain man?" He knelt by Sylar to grab his shoulders intensely, "have you seen Charlie?"

"Yes," Sylar confirmed, carefully avoiding that chair as he pushed himself up and onto another chair. "Yes," he repeated, gathering himself together and brushing the hair out his eyes.

"Where is she?" Hiro asked impatently. He had waited long enough and thought the answer will elude him forever.

Sylar moaned and dried the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, nodding, "I'm not sure of the order of things as happened, it all seemed a bit of a muddle."

"I don't care about chronological order! Where is Charlie?" Hiro pressed.

Peter put a hand on Sylar's shoulder, feeling the need to intervene as the whole gathering looked on curious and a little more close by than he would have imagined Sylar would be comfortable with at the moment, "give him some time to gather his thoughts."

"Samuel," Sylar established, "Samuel told Arnold to take Charlie out to a small, uninhabited Pacific island during the second world war and leave her there."

Despite their recent experiences with their ex leader, an appalled murmur went through the crowd, while Hiro sat down in Arnold's chair, downcast, "are you sure, brain man?"

Sylar raised a halting hand for a moment, signalling that he wasn't finished yet, "but he did not have the heart to do it. He did not take her anywhere."

"What do you mean?" Peter probed softly, yet intrigued.

"She's right here at the carnival, she's always been. Frozen in time and hidden out of sight by being taken out the time space continuum," he raised his head, his gaze stopping by the old, unfortunate time traveller's trailer, "not even a second would've passed for her."

Hiro ran away in that direction, ambling up and down the length of the trailer frowning, stopping at every step to close his eyes for a moment. Everybody was frozen by accident a couple of times as he probed the space in question, but eventually a big smile appeared on his lips. He blinked once more and out of nowhere, a startled Charlie appeared.

The happy Japanese did not let her be uneasy for very long, but got her into his arms and gave her that very overdue kiss in front of everyone, clapping and cheering disregarded. "It's over Charlie," he explained gleefully eventually, "no more Samuel, no more kidnappings, no more illnesses and no more crazy jumps in time."

"How can you be so sure?" Charlie asked rather shy with all the onlookers and glancing in every direction uncomfortably.

He picked her up and spun her around instead, setting her down by the now standing close by Sylar. "He helped me save you and his future has changed. Everything has changed," he declared on a jovial voice that did make some wonder if he had lost his mind.

Charlie turned to Sylar, "thank you for saving my life. Again," she said in her kind manner.

"The pleasure's mine," the killer echoed Hiro's optimistic smile and grabbed Peter's arms, "yes. Yes, well what do you think?"

"I think it's a great start for the Brave New World," Peter looked round the dozens of evolved humans who could now have a real chance at a happy life.

Tbc


	5. Guarantee

Chapter 5: Guarantee

"Would you like to play with your favourite toy, beautiful?" Sylar wriggled his hips, pressing his naked body closer and against her similarly unclothed body.

Playing with the hair at the lower part of his stomach, Claire laughed at his question and promptly grabbed hold of the item in question, his penis. "Cocksure, are we?" She teased. Squeezing him hard, she made her way down kissing his lips, his shoulder, his chest and stomach, and ultimately, his straining member, standing out like a strong pillar from the forest of surrounding soft, curly hair and the smooth hills of his pelvis. Her saliva lapped at his member with natural lubricants as her tongue licked him up from the root to the sensitive tip and all the way down back again teasingly, but her eyes remained closed. Claire was intentionally trying not to look at his organ she knew was looking shiny and bursting and a pinkish tint of red that paradoxically, made him all manly. Simply the feel of the gentle curvature was enough to turn her on and it was almost more than she could bear. The soft "mmm" escaped her involuntarily and she squeezed him hard with the same uncontrolled burst of passion.

"I think that counts as a yes," Sylar mouthed on a coarse, beguiling voice, but any more self confident rambles were cut short by his own hiss as her perfect teeth closed around his shaft and bit down possessively. He squirmed only a little, the brief discomfort was quickly replaced by the silky feel of flowing wetness, hot and slippery, its drips engulfing his whole manhood. For the shortest of time, it could've been his blood as Claire was not known for her tenderness as a lover, but Sylar did not feel able to grab her hair and pull her back up for the momentary lack of delicious contact with her mouth that would've caused. Soon enough she pumped at the base of his penis and licked it up and down keen and energetic, bathing it in her steamy saliva. She had become such a connoisseur over the years, Sylar's cock and pleasure connoisseur that is, if there would've been such a profession.

"I haven't had the pleasure for twenty eight years," she purred against his swollen member, rolling her head and sending subtle vibrations along the length. She upped it with a throaty murmur, a hankering sound that spoke volumes of how long those years were they spent away from each other on a different planet.

The immortal ability collector had to toss his head back and moan loudly, her low sounds sending their pulsation all through his body. She smiled and laughed at his body's response, which in turn, elicited the same reaction from those sensitive nerve endings at the tip of his cock and made her laugh more slutily, dirtily and over and over again.

He was panting hard and she wanted to witness and get pleasure from seeing his excitement. She looked up to see that his eyes were shut and the way he was lying there exposed, she could well see how she could tease him some more. She lifted herself up to move over him, but she inched slowly upwards, her nipples and tongue barely brushing him, his stomach, his chest till her lips reached his ears so she could whisper hotly, "come on, baby, prove it that you can still cum for me without me touching you down there.." She sat up and curled beside him, looking down at him provokingly, withdrawing the contact, but not forgetting to take in his entire, delectable body with her gaze. She could see that his cock was leaking already, as if on demand.

"I need.." He managed, his breathing irregular, heart pounding, "you can't do this to me after all this time. It was more like twenty nine years since Kolob." He grabbed her with a hungry and determined look and rolled, pushing himself over her and kissed her hard, while his hard erection brushed against her steaming cunt, demanding entrance. Her inner muscles tightened involuntarily and she knew immediately who was the weaker one and who will dominate this time. Feeling that naked, big, drooling cock of his against her she could hardly ever resist and the groan she could not surpress attested to it. She didn't mind him taking over, shaping the experience to his fancy and desires. She would let him take it like he wanted it, take her and please, as long as she had his rock hard cock at her service.

Their union turned fast and vigorous and it became obvious to Claire it would be like so many times before during their lifetimes spent together, that he will feel her cum and buck and spasm uncontrollably around him, lost in screams and the flooding heat of sensations before he would let her pull him over the edge with her to cum hard and spill his seed with a low growl.

Though barely able to breathe, raptured by senses and desire, exhausted by the effort he was still able to utter, "I love you, Claire Bennet."

Not far away from them, right behind the curtains separating them from the darkened night, a different, centuries younger Claire stood traumatized by what she was seeing happening on the wide double bed of the couple. She was so shaken that she had to heavily lean on her travel guide, Hiro. Nothing prepared her for the Claire of the future's response though.

"Me…too…" The knowledgeable lover responded and little Claire of the twenty-first century, squeezed Hiro's hand as an indication that she had had seen enough, in fact plenty after a mere ten minutes in her own distant future.

As they reappeared inside the carnival trailer they time travelled from, Claire ran to the window, then sat down sighing, relieved they were back. She could see her father talking to Lauren outside, children running and laughing around the wagons as the carnival people were starting to return to normal after Samuel's big demonstration of force.

The present felt comfortable and right, and where she wanted to be, although she couldn't say the same about what was yet to come. "Are you sure that was my future?" She asked, even though she already knew the answer.

"I can not create illusions, that is another ability," Hiro reminded her patiently nonetheless. "It's hard to change the future, little miss. It has taken Sylar a few years and considerable effort. But no longer is he to die alone. And you will no longer spend an eternity on your own."

Claire pursed her lips. Despite what she has seen, or perhaps because of it, the situation was hard to take in. Her personal boogeyman has turned into everybody's hero, was living with them twenty-four seven and not in detainment, and most importantly, it was Claire herself who will get to enjoy the full benefits of such apparent personality change. She massaged her temples. Who was this Sylar now? It was one she did not recognise and known very well.

Thankfully she had the next few hundred years to figure that one out.

The End.


End file.
